Rag Dolls
by sialark2
Summary: There was snow falling quickly and dutifully, as if it was working to inter the carnage the day had seen. Just cover them over quick, and forget. But for those that can't, it had been a long day. On a lonely cottage porch, Clementine and Luke find there is only one way to keep going-forward.


Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead Game, or any of its characters.

A/N - Welcome to my first fanfic I've ever written! I hope you enjoy. ;) * bows away *

Edit: I forgot to mention before that this was written for the fabulous Lilacsbloom. You da best, girl! :)

**Rag Dolls**

* * *

_Creaakk._ The fleeting auburn wash of the firelight behind her was snuffed out by the closing door. The darkness, whirling with speckled slivers of white, enveloped her as Clementine stepped outside. There was snow falling quickly and dutifully, as if it was working to inter the carnage the day had seen. Just cover them over quick, and forget. Their footprints were already being erased, removing the signs that they had been on this earth. If anyone came here, they would never know.

Clem stepped forward heavily, clearing the railing of snow and leaned on it, exhaling. She might as well keep watch like she had said she would. The little covered porch, complete with swing, was part of the quaint cottage behind her they had found earlier in the day. It sat at the top of the hill like a last sentinel looking over the snowy forests below. It was a good place to hole up, as the walkers would have a hard time moving up such a steep slope to reach them. Not to mention the cold was starting to slow them down now too.

The wind chose to blow particularly fiercely at that moment, as if affirming her thoughts. It cut deep, through her hat and through the bandage beneath to her still freshly stinging wound. She touched the bloodied cloth delicately and shivered, not just from the cold. It had been so fast, it was unnerving. At least with walkers, she had time to _fight_ them and take them down. But when that gun had been pointed at her head and had gone off _so fast _with her own weapon still at her side, there was just nothing she could do...

She took a deep, shuddering breath to steady herself, and opened her eyes. The moon was gleaming dully like a sickly phantom behind the clouds. Those same clouds brought down the bleached flakes, coming down like the finite sand grains of an hourglass, burying them until their time would be up. The snow was everywhere. Some could've called it something like a blanket; Clem thought of it as a plague. She remembered reading-in one of the history books her mom had gotten her-about the suffocating ash that had fallen from a volcano and buried some entire unfortunate ancient city. The people beneath the scorching powder had simply perished. Below the gray dust was where their remains had been found centuries later, preserved bodies and skeletons eerily still clutching each other, forever in their dying positions. Clem wearily looked at the slight indentations in the snowy hill and wondered if she would find something similar beneath. And yet, with the bare trees weighed down with ice and snow, the warmth of the cottage behind her, and the (albeit weakly) glowing moon, the scene could've been on a Christmas card. All it needed was a properly decorated tree, maybe one with a porcelain angel on top that a certain fifteen-year old would appreciate...

Clem gave her head a little shake, feeling her hat move loosely. It was no good thinking of things like that. She righted her hat. She'd have to fix it with the sewing materials they had found inside. Her cap had suffered some casualties in the gunfight, just like all of them had, save for the baby. Luke had been hit in the shoulder and they had gotten Kenny in the hip, but just superficially. Clem...had had her left cheek and temple grazed, her hat catching a good deal of the damage. Now her hat boasted a good bit of her own blood as well as Lee's, in addition to a new two-inch tear left in the wake of the bullet's path. But the overall damage done to her had been minimal. Luke's and Kenny's bullets had gone straight through, so there was no danger of them having ricochet injuries. Clem's bullet on the other hand had just skimmed right off her. She had gotten away with the _smallest_ grievance. And yet, she had been the _closest_ of them to dying...how did something like that make sense?...The wind roared again, and Clem shut her eyes, warding away not just the cold. She sighed. At that point, they had wrapped themselves up the best they could with Arvo's medical supplies, and kept moving. Though, the others hadn't been so lucky.

From there, they had been walking along, aiming to find the town across from the river. Kenny had insisted on carrying the baby, even if he was the slowest with his injured leg.

"You can't go on like this, Kenny," Luke was saying. "Just look at yourself."

Clem looked behind her at the two men. Beyond them she saw Kenny's footprints, or at least the prints from his uninjured leg. The other limb had left a jagged furrowing gash in the snow, dots of red sometimes tarnishing the perfect white.

"Yeah? What do _you_ know?" Kenny grumbled, limping adamantly. Clem just kept trudging along, eyes on the ground. They had been going at it all morning.

"_I_ know that you've been hanging onto that baby ever since the shootout! And I know you'll need help with it sooner or later! You might as well give him here now," Luke insisted.

"How about _no_, asshole? He's doing fine with me. Besides, you'll just _drop_ him with your fucked-up shoulder!" the older man retorted.

"Oh yeah, and you're so much better with your shot leg, battered eye, and then some!" Luke shot back, his voice rising to match the other's.

"Will you two just stop? We still have a long way to go," Clem tried halfheartedly, though she knew it wouldn't be much good. The other two just ignored her, stopping and facing off now.

"Well at least _I'm_ not a _flake_ going around putting other people in danger by not watching out for goddamned _walkers_!" Kenny yelled.

"It was _one_ mistake!" the younger man countered.

The baby started to cry from the noise, making Kenny glare at Luke before he tried to hush the newborn.

"You guys, plea—!" Clem attempted again.

But there was a rustle behind her. Clem turned. About thirty feet away and coming towards them were two walkers. Kenny looked up from the still crying baby, unable to quiet it, and livid. But he was unaware of the dead.

"Walkers!" Clem cried, just as Kenny tore into Luke, the baby wailing all the while.

"'_One mistake'_ that cost some of us our **_lives!_**"

"I know I messed up! _Jesus Christ! _What do you _want_ from me?!"

"That's not even the worst part. You _fucked_ the _REST _of us over by going around FUCKING some _GIRL_ who don't even give a big enough **_SHIT_**about you TO STICK **_AROUND!_**"

"You **_sonuva—!_**_"_

"**_HELP ME!_**" she yelled, but her voice was drowned out by the other three. There was no time. The first one was a few steps away.

Clenching her jaw, Clem pulled out the pointed awl Jane gave her, while stepping forward. _CRACKK _went its knee as she kicked it and the thing came down _hard_. She stabbed the walker through the back of its head ferociously, finishing it. "Holy shit, Clem!" she heard Luke exclaim, but she had no time to turn or answer. The second one was almost upon her. She withdrew her awl quickly and charged the corpse, brutally thrusting her weapon under its chin and into its brain. The walker fell silent, and Clem let it crumple under its weight, unsheathing itself from the awl still in her hand as gravity brought the now unanimated corpse back down to earth. She stood for a moment, just as Luke ran up with his machete raised.

"Are you all right?!" Luke said, as Kenny hobbled over with the still-crying baby.

Clem glared at them furiously. "Thanks for the _help_," she spat, turning and continuing on without another word.

They all went on for a few tense moments, and Kenny was soon able to get the baby to calm down. But Luke eventually caught up to her.

"I'm sorry we didn't help you in time Clem. That was—that was terrible of us," he said, a hand running through his hair.

"I was fine. You're both injured more than I am anyway. I can take care of it," she said tonelessly without looking at him.

"No, we should've listened to you," he insisted.

"He's right, Clem," Kenny agreed apologetically. That was rare. He sighed wearily from behind them. "We were slow and careless."

Clem turned to them both and saw the matching sorrow on their faces. It was a unique thing for them to agree on anything, and Clementine just couldn't disregard it.

"It's okay," she said quietly, and she meant it.

As they pushed on, the conversation dropped.

It wasn't too long after that that they had found the cottage. It had been a godsend. Any shelter from the cold was already a plus, but with its topography, the place was fairly secure from walkers. Then there was the unadorned fact that it had food—and plenty of it. It was all canned, and although the lower shelves were all empty, the top ones still had substantial foodstuffs like collard greens and black beans and sweet white corn—and that was all they needed. Outside, there was a little pile of chopped wood they could use for the fireplace within. And then of course, there was the needle and thread.

The three of them used the sewing materials to stitch up their wounds first. Then they'd finally all eaten, and were thankful for it. They even still had the baby formula from Bonnie's pack, though the pack's former owner was a different matter...But they had found a little carry-on sized suitcase for the baby to use as a crib, after they'd made it more comfortable with some pillows. And after Luke had made sure the smoke outside was discreet enough to not attract attention, they had a modest fire going in the fireplace too. It was the best evening they'd had in a while...if they could only forget about that morning.

It was later after the sun had gone down that Clem was watching over the baby. Luke and Kenny were going over their supplies in the other room. Sitting on a cozy old armchair, she held the baby gingerly next to the crackling fire, rocking it tenderly. Clem hadn't seen too many babies in her short life, at least ones she could remember, and it boggled her mind how _small_ this living _person_ she was holding was. Even his fingernails were only a few millimeters across, and so delicate. He cooed, reaching for the brim of Clem's hat feebly with those tiny fingers. She smiled, and let him try to grasp it. He wasn't really able to.

"Aw, you've almost got it, little guy," she said. She cautiously touched him on his tiny nose.

"Boop," she murmured. The baby stopped, looking at her. But his attention was soon taken by the rising voices coming from the kitchen.

"...just do that?"

"There was no other way!"

Kenny and Luke were fighting again. Their words weren't that loud at first and were somewhat unintelligible, but Clem frowned when the baby fussed at the noise. She rocked it gently. It sounded like they were arguing about the shootout...It was just never ending with those two, wasn't it? She grit her teeth, and made her way towards the kitchen with the baby in tow.

"...you just _SHOOT_ her!? You could've just taken her out with a knife or _anything_—"

"She was a WALKER! I had to protect that _BABY!_"

"Will you two just QUIT IT?!" They turned to her, shocked. "You're _both_ acting ridiculous. You know that, right?" Clem scowled at them. "We have to stick together. Or else we're all going to fall apart." She held the baby tightly, tone angry and eyes worried. "Can't we at least relax now that we have some food and shelter? Just, get off each other's backs!"

But the baby started crying again then, upset at her outburst. Clem looked guiltily at him, and tried to shush him. But Kenny automatically took him from Clem, who felt the baby's warm weight get taken from her reluctantly.

"Oh yeah sure. We can just '_relax_,'" Kenny mocked, still calming the baby even though his face was twisted in a snarl. "Now that everything's perfect and _dandy_, let's just 'relax!' Dammit Clementine, it's _your fault_ we were shot up in the first place; this baby nearly died before it could live even _one day_ for Chrissake, and now there's barely anyone left!"

Clem stood stock-still, feeling struck. "I..." She looked between them, beseeching as the baby continued to cry. Kenny was still seething. Luke frowned, and his split-second hesitation to defend her was all she needed. And the worst part was that she couldn't defend herself either.

"It's _not_ her fault—"

"Y-yeah, I guess so...like before..." she admitted, defeated. Something changed in Kenny's eyes at those last two words. "I'm going to go keep watch," she muttered, brushing past them both without a glance.

"Wait, Clem..." Luke tried. But she was already gone.

* * *

_KRRACKKKOOM!_

...

...

...

"...Clem..."

She can't move.

All she sees are the gray clouds above like ocean waves rolling in slow motion, uncaring of the bloodshed below. All she hears is her heart painfully refusing to give up the fight, and a strange whining ringing, muting everything else. All she feels is a warmth on the left side of her face, steadily growing with each beat of her frantic heart. But the smell? The smell is overwhelming. Nothing but _blood_...metallic and potent and fresh; too, too _fresh_, so unlike the rotted, clotted walkers' blood...and it's _everywhere. _She can't escape it, no chance to get away...It _couldn't _have happened, it just couldn't have. Could it?

"...Cleme...ine!"

...Could it?

"Answer me, kid!" Over the ringing and over the pounding, she knows that voice...

"...L-Luke?"

"Oh, shit..." She senses a shadow fall on her face, blocking the clouds. "Ok, hang on. Let me just get this off—" She feels something pull at her head lightly.

"Wha...?" The familiar hug on her head is suddenly _gone_. The abrupt loss of that once persistent and safe sensation jolts her already thumping heart, and it is in that horrifying moment that Clem remembers what had happened. Rebecca, coming back. The baby, defenseless. The shot, going off, and setting off the rest like a deadly game of dominoes. The gun pointed at her head...the blast and the stinging as she had gone down, down, feeling the wetness blossom on her face and her hat...wait, her hat...?

"No..."

"It'll be okay...Oh, fuck..." she hears Luke go on, fumbling with something on her head. Her entirely too bare, exposed, _hatless_ head.

"No! NO! Don't—don't take it, please, _please_, I need it—" She struggles, just trying to get it _back_, even though her blurry vision refuses to aid her.

"Clem! I just need to—"

"I need it, I _need_ it, give it back—"

"Clementine—!"

"I don't want to **_go_** without it, **_please_**, Luke!" she's pleading him now.

He's shocked into silence by her meaning, but quickly recovers.

"It's okay, you're fine! You're all done! Here—" She feels her hat pushed back on, touching slightly on a new pressure on the side of her head soaking up that wetness—a bandage? Clem's eyes close, hands finding and savoring the familiar fabric from her father, the frayed material beneath her shaking fingers a balm to slow the beating of her heart. She feels Luke give her a small shake, and opens her eyes to find him looking down at her, his hands on her shoulders.

"Clem, you're alive. You're _alive_, got it? It was just a scratch! You're gonna be okay. Okay?" She looks at his face numbly, again feeling her frozen blood pumping through her veins, as if justifying his words."_Okay_?" he repeats anxiously, eyes concerned.

She swallows, and breathes, "Yeah..."

"Here, come on..."

* * *

Back outside in the grayness where the wind had died down, Clem was watching the tree-line with vacant eyes. There had been _so much_ out of her control out there. She couldn't even focus on what had happened; most of the fight had been a blur. She let out another breath.

Looking around the perimeter, Clem saw there were no walkers around on the steep slope below or in the wooded distance. Now was a good a time as any to fix her hat. She had even found some blue thread amongst the spools inside, almost matching her hat perfectly. She removed the mentioned article of clothing gingerly, careful around her bandaged graze. Examining it, Clem noted the two-inch slice in the blue fabric from the bullet, right above the ear and behind where it attached to the bill on the wearer's left side. Some of her own blood had stained the rip a dark red...it almost looked like a wounded blue animal. Clem supposed it sort of was...But it also looked fixable. She frowned at the crustiness of the dried brick red blood, blown dry that day by the unforgiving wind. But she didn't have the heart to wash it out. It was the same as always because, of course, she was afraid of losing Lee's blood in the process, and the damage was very close to his bloodstain. Grisly as it was, it was still the mark of his last sacrifice for her...She put down her hat, as well as the needle and thread on a tiny table by the railing. But when Clem reached back for the spool, she gasped and grabbed her left forearm, a sudden ghostly pain reminding her of the last time she had done something similar.

_Creaakk. _Clem was jarred out of her thoughts abruptly. Luke had come outside, joining her at the railing.

"...Uh, heya Clem," he said quietly, leaning on the banister. Clem glanced at him, still holding her arm, but quickly letting go.

"...How ya doin'?" he ventured carefully.

"Fine," she answered stiffly. Truthfully, she was still a bit miffed at him. She turned back to the needle and thread, trying to thread the eye.

"Wow. You uh, have your hat off..." he observed, brow furrowing.

"I have to fix it," she replied shortly.

"Ah...I see," he said, rubbing a hand behind his neck. A pause.

"You look so different without it on. Almost like a kid." That got her attention. Clem looked up at him, and saw Luke had the saddest expression on his face.

"Then I won't take it off again," she said seriously, not breaking eye contact as she snatched it up and pushed it back onto her head.

"No." Her eyebrows rose, taken aback by his bluntness. "You—you should once in a while, Clem. Don't let yourself forget what it was like before."

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Luke. You know that."

"I know. _Jesus_, I know." He shook his head. "But you _are_ still a kid. And it's not fair for you to have to go through all this shit at such a young age." They both knew he wasn't talking about just killing walkers.

Clem swallowed, her chest tight. "But I have to anyway."

"Yeah...Yeah, you do." He paused. "Still, I wish I could keep you from it."

"I'm fine, and I'll _be_ fine," she insisted, hard. She couldn't afford to not be. There was another lull in their conversation.

"...So...about before..."

Clem looked at him, slightly annoyed. "Be a bit _more_ vague, Luke. It's not like a _million_ things have happened lately."

Luke frowned. "Right, sorry...I just meant um, about what you said inside before...?" Her eyes widened, and she was glad her hat was there to shield her expression, as Kenny's words rang through her head again.

_It's your fault we were shot up in the first place!_

"Uh, nothing. It was nothing...Don't worry about it..." Luke stayed silent, eyes on the girl beside him.

"It didn't look like 'nothing'."

_Now there's barely anyone left!_

Clem glowered, still not looking at him. "Well that's all it was." Silence.

"...It wasn't your fault, you know," he told her gently. Clem gripped the railing. Her breath had hitched in her throat at his words, robbing her voice. "Arvo just _came back_. You and Jane _had_ to hold him up, just to be sure. There was nothin' else that could've been done." He stopped again. "Come on Clem, look at me."

Clem lowered her head, squeezing her eyes closed, and wished she could stop her ears from working somehow too. It was because of _her_ that Bonnie and Mike had bled to death, it was _her fault_ that they were all so injured, and it was _her fault_ that Arvo and the rest of his group were dead, it was _her fault_ that she herself had almost...She couldn't even _start_ to look at him.

"Just _stop_, Luke, please."

"No. It's the honest truth, and you should know that."

Clem shook her head disbelievingly. "How was it _not_ my fault?" she asked in a pained voice. "We didn't take anything from Arvo except his gun, and then we just let him _go_. If we had done something else, _anything_ else...if we had kept him as a prisoner or, or, maybe if we had just _killed_ him..."

"_Hey!_" Clem jumped, finally meeting his heated gaze. Luke's jaw was set, brown eyes slightly smoldering. "Killing him was not an option!"

"How are you so sure?" she asked earnestly.

"Bec—_Jesus Clem!_ Because you can't go around killing innocent people!"

"But he didn't turn out to be innocent! He brought the rest of his friends, and Bonnie and Mike are _dead_ now! Arvo's even dead now too! Maybe it would've been better if we'd just killed him before. We're _all_ _injured_, and it'll be a MIRACLE if all of us even _make_ it to Wellington, because of _me..._" She collapsed on the porch swing behind her. Luke just stood there, crossing his arms.

After a moment he said, "Well, I reckon the important thing is that you did the fairest thing you could think of. _Killing _him was _not_ the best thing to do," he repeated. Clem's shoulders slumped.

"...Maybe...I—I just don't know if we can afford going on being so forgiving..." Luke turned to her, and, sensing her despondency, he sat down next to her. It seemed he was searching for the right words to say. But—

_Crrackoom!_ Clem flinched at the suddenly broken quiet, looking around. Had _that_ been what she'd _thought_ it was?!...Luke's gaze had been drawn to the roof above and behind them. He got up quickly to investigate.

"That sounded like some ice breakin'," Luke said, while Clem sat there, bewildered, her heart going a mile a minute. What? What sound had _he _heard?

"I'm gonna go check it out real fast."

"No, don't go!" Clem exclaimed, louder than she had meant to. Luke turned to her, surprised.

"What? Why?"

"Because—because it sounded-–!" Luke looked at the ceiling of the porch, and back to Clem, eyebrows raising.

"Sounded like what, Clem? It was just some ice." He gestured to the roof.

"B-but...it sounded just like the Russians' guns..." she said, wide eyes shifting to the roof as well, and then out into the forest.

"...That wasn't no gun, Clem. I've heard guns before, and that wasn't a gun. It was just some ice falling off the roof, maybe under the weight of all this snow," Luke explained patiently.

But Clem was scared now, for more than one reason. Had she really misheard it? Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her...? "But...it sounded just like them..." Luke frowned at her, concerned now.

"No, it _didn't_, Clem," he assured her firmly. "I watched the ice go down over there...Listen, are you feelin' all right?" He peered at her worriedly. She was sitting, still clutching the needle with a death grip, her eyes pinpricks themselves, fixed on the forest. "Clem?...What's the matter?"

"I just...don't want to die..."

The soft words had tumbled out of her mouth without her meaning them to, and in the moment between uttering them and realizing what she'd said, she knew she couldn't take them back. She felt Luke's eyes on her as the words echoed in her ears like obscenities, slamming around in her head mercilessly as she clenched her eyes and teeth together, just trying to stop it all from escaping out of her...

"Oh, Clem..."

She sensed Luke crouching down in front of her and taking hold of her left shoulder.

"Clementine? Look at me." She reluctantly lifted her gaze, but still couldn't quite meet his.

"I know you already got shot. I'm _sorry_ we couldn't protect you; _Jesus_ I'm so sorry! And then with those two walkers right after...But I won't let _anything_ like that happen to you again." At that, her eyes snapped up, searching for any sign he could be lying.

"You can't promise that." She wanted to believe him, oh how she wanted to _believe_.

"I'll try my best," he said, looking back steadily. There was no dishonesty in his gaze. Clem hesitated, but she couldn't hold back anymore. She jumped him, hugging him fiercely, and he returned it heartily.

"It's okay, it's okay, but, _aah!_ Oooh, watch the—the shoulder! And the—_needle!_"

"Oh! Sorry." She leaned back sheepishly, and Luke moved to sit next to her, holding his shoulder gingerly, but smiling wide. But he soon traded it for a more somber expression.

"Hey, look, about Arvo." He sat with his elbows on his knees, facing Clementine. "I know it's hard. But if we lose that part of ourselves that says we shouldn't kill for no good reason, there won't be much else left. It's just a risk we have to take. What's the point of being alive if we lose our mercy? If we lose our..._clemency_?" He gave a small wink to Clementine, who was lost.

"'Clemency'?" she repeated.

"It means, 'mercy.' Pretty sure it's also where the name 'Clementine' comes from," he said gently. That fact was news to her. Clem looked at him.

"Wow. I always thought I was just named after oranges..."

Luke laughed. "Well. I don't know what your parents planned. Oranges are also a good namesake." Clem smirked ever so slightly, until something crossed her mind.

"Wait, are you still going to go check out the noise?" she asked.

"Hmm? Nahh...I don't think I need to. It was just ice is all; I can pretty much see it from here." Luke said, leaning over to see. "Yup. Well, now that we've proven how sharp that needle is," he continued, "what do ya say we work on your hat now?" he said with a light grin. Clem nodded, returning it.

She took out the thread, but still couldn't control the way her fingers were trembling ever so slightly. Luke's sharp gaze wasn't helping, either.

"Do you...want some help?"

"It's fine," she said. "I'm just...cold."

Luke lifted a brow at her. "Here," he said, gently taking the needle and thread from her and making short work of threading it. "Now your hat." At first Clem clutched it instinctively, but she forced herself to hand him the warm cloth, leaving her hands cold and empty, and her head lonely.

"Don't mess it up, okay?" she said. And Luke, ever the jerk, shot her a _Watch this_ face. So she did, closely.

Even with his injured shoulder, he was faster than Clem could ever be. He didn't say a word about the blood on the torn cloth; it didn't even slow him down. He put the stitches in in rapid succession, and was done in seconds. It looked perfect.

"Wow. You should've helped me sew up my arm too," she says, half serious, half joking. She put her hat back on, smiling at the fit, then took it off again to admire Luke's handiwork some more. "How are you so good at that?" she wondered.

"Well actually, when I was younger, I learned how to darn my own clothes, and how to make my own Halloween costumes," Luke said, bragging only a little bit.

"No way," Clem said, grinning.

He laughed. "Yeah way!" He got up off the swing to lean with his back on the railing. "But I didn't start off so great. One year, I wanted to go as a superhero, but my stitching wasn't quite up to speed back then." He chuckled again, looking over the hill. "Costume ended up lookin' more like a sidekick's than a superhero's."

Clem smirked. "I can see that happening."

"Hey!"

Clem just smiled sweetly, or maybe wickedly, depending on how one looked at it.

"_Any_way, I ended up goin' as a lowly sidekick. My costume looked absolutely terrible." He laughed. "That year, Nick—" he stopped, and Clem saw his face pale.

"...Nick what, Luke?" Clem asked softly. Luke swallowed and glanced at Clem. He turned away, facing the hill below. Clem sat in thought for a moment, but soon she had an idea. The girl dug for something in her pockets and when she found it, she got up to join Luke with her hat still in hand, handing him Nick's watch. Luke's eyes fell on it.

"I found it by Nick, after we found him in the trailer park..." she confessed, as his slightly shaking fingers closed around it, taking it from her. "It looked like it had come off," she said quietly. "You should have it..."

The watch's golden links shone in the moonlight, the reflections almost like sparks. The onyx face sucked in any light, but the way the ivory numerals glowed against it, they had a calming quality. Clem watched Luke looking at it for a while, listening to its steady ticking heartbeat, and watching its hand resolutely moving on. She herself considered her hat, stroking the smooth new stitching...It was soothing. The night snow around them continued on, though the two pensive souls were oblivious to it.

"I miss Lee," she found herself saying, eyes on the dead man's bloodstain. Luke started, and looked at her. "I miss my parents...the people from my old group, and from _our_ group." Her brow furrowed deeper as she embraced the fresh hurt. "I miss Sarah, and Rebecca...and Nick, too." She looked up at him staring back at her. "It's okay for you to miss him...and the others. He was a good guy, Luke." Luke took a breath. It seemed like her friend was struggling to keep his face blank, but he was cracking at the seams, like the paint peeling off an old but well-loved action figure...

"You're just a kid, Clem," he choked out. "I don't know if—"

"I'm _not_ just a kid." Luke stopped, stunned. She whipped her hat back onto her head. Clem knew she was supposed to be gentle, but she was tired of this. "I've seen some _crap, _Luke. And I'm still _here_." She shook her head."I'm _not_ falling apart. I've done things; I've made choices! I _didn't_ leave Sarah to die in that trailer, just like _you_ didn't. I _didn't_ steal from Arvo, no matter what he claimed! I _refused_ to watch Kenny kill Carver. I've almost died before and dammit, I was inches from death _today!_" Her voice broke, but she refused to stop, refused to not finish. "I may have needed help on the way, but _I'm. Still. Here_." Her golden eyes bored into Luke's brown ones, and he couldn't look away as they both remembered the words of the freshly departed Sarah, echoing all the way from that trailer park into their minds.

_But you're still here..._

Clem exhaled, her gaze slowly softening. "You could use some help too Luke, I can see it...So just _say something _to me." Luke just stared at her as if he'd never seen her properly. Something had changed...Shoot. Had she maybe said too much? His gaze shifted back to the wilderness, and Clem could see him thinking...

But after a few moments, she heard him clear his throat.

"You're right. You're right, Clem, and I'm—I'm sorry." He paused and opened his mouth, but changed his mind. He tried again. "I—I do miss him...I miss him a _lot_. Christ, he was my best friend for _twenty years_, y'know? Why wouldn't I miss him?!" He looked down at the watch as he gripped it tightly. It looked like he was choosing his words very carefully. "But sometimes we don't get to show it. For people's sakes, we _can't_ show it." He looked like he was thinking of going on, but decided against it. He shook his head, then looked at Clem with the most forlorn expression.

"Nick, uh—" Luke started. His voice was still scratchy, but he tried again, as Clem all but held her breath. "Nick made fun of me that year, even though his costume was worse than mine..._that asshole_," he added under his breath, and it looked like the corners of his lips couldn't quite decide to rise or not. Clem's did though, just glad to hear Luke talk.

"That's funny," she murmured, though she wasn't sure how to coax him to say more. "What...what was his costume?" she asked timidly. Luke chuckled, though his voice cracked; his last "ha" becoming a sad sigh.

"...A moose..."

Clem couldn't help the small grin that graced her face.

"That sounds like Nick," she said quietly, while he nodded slowly.

When he didn't go on, she tried, "How...how did you learn to sew?" Luke glanced over at Clem, hesitant, contemplating something.

At long last he said, "Well, uh...my—my mom..." Clementine stood up straighter. Luke had never spoken about his mother before, or any of his family. He stared out into the wintry night, reminiscing.

"She used to be a great seamstress, even though she was a stay-at-home-mom. But she wanted to open up her own dress store one day. Like a—" he searched for the right word. "—A 'boutique,' is what she called it. I was goin' to help her, after we got our own business off the ground." He sighed again, heavily. "She was really laid back all year round, but she was a great mom. For Halloween when I was younger though, she would make _me_ do the sewing; she wanted me to learn too!" He laughed lightly. Clem smiled too. She knew she should remain silent and let him just go on, but there was something she'd been dying to know.

"What...what happened to her?"

Luke didn't look at her, the expression on his face unreadable. "The same thing that happened to everyone else, of course," and Clem could tell he wouldn't say more about it right now. But maybe later he would...They stood, listening to the wind, watching as the snow started to slow and the clouds started to clear.

"Well that's weird." Clem said lightheartedly.

"What? What is?" Luke asked, caught off guard.

She quirked an eyebrow. "You have holes in your shirt right now," she accused teasingly, pointing at his chest. "If you're so good at sewing, why didn't you fix them?"

"Ah, well...let's just say that some things hold _more_ meanin' when there's _less_ of 'em left," he said with a vague knowing smile.

"I know," Clem murmured. Her eyes briefly flew to the hat on her head, where she knew Lee's bloodstain was. "Seems that's the case with a lot of things these days," she said, glancing at Nick's watch before looking back up at Luke sadly. Luke's grin faded. "_But," _she insisted, "You didn't answer my question."

"Well...yes I did!" Luke said defensively.

"Psh, yeah, right," she scoffed, cracking a smile.

Now the snowfall had started to stop, and the last flakes started to wander. Clem watched one in particular meander off the beaten path, and land close-by on Luke.

"Hey, um, you've got a snowflake on your face there. Just a little..." Luke raised his eyebrows, using a hand to attempt to wipe it off.

"Is it gone?" he said.

"Uh, hang on, I'll get it..." and before he knew it, frozen whiteness collided with his face, seemingly not removing the offending flake from his mug, and probably adding some others as well. Probably.

"Ppbleearghh...blahh..._Clem!_" he said eloquently, wiping the snow from his face.

"Heh, I don't think I got it," she said cheekily, reaching to make another snowball. "Hang on, lemme try again..."

"Why you—!" He lunged for her, but of course she was too fast. Clem slipped out from Luke before he even had a chance, grinning all the while. But she didn't see the patch of ice, and started to go down.

"Oh, shoo—"

"C'm'ere, you!" Luke caught her, and instead of righting her, he noogied her lightly. It didn't hurt, and Clem could tell he was being purposely careful around her bandage. But he was still messing up her hair!

"Arghh ah Luke! Get off!" she said, struggling and giggling, and he suddenly did, letting her get away. She stood apart from him, confused at his abrupt stop. Her friend was studying her with such an odd look on his face, with his brow creased and the beginnings of a smile.

"What?" Clem said. "What is it? Is it my hat? I bet you knocked it off-center and now my hair looks even weirder than normal—"

"I think that was the first time I've ever heard you laugh, kid."

Clem just stood there, taking in his words. "Uh, um...oh...?" she said, not sure what to say. Luke just laughed, and Clem smiled too.

"Well, it's been known to happen," she admitted, shrugging.

"All right," he chuckled. He glanced at the watch again, and this time the time of night registered. "Oh _shit_ it's getting late! Listen, I'm gonna go check on Kenny and the baby. Why don't you come inside too and get some sleep, Clem? I'll take watch tonight."

"No, I can do it. You and Kenny are hurt worse; you should go rest," she said.

"_No_," he insisted, "I've got it tonight. Trust me." Clem paused at those last two words, looking at him. Luke was just grinning easily at her, as if he'd said nothing out of the ordinary. Slowly, she returned the smile as well. "...All right. I was just gonna stay out here a little longer."

"Okay, Clem. Will be right back." He shot her another grin and went inside.

Clem's eyes followed Luke inside as he kept the front door open but closed the glass door behind it. _Creaakk. _She saw him regard Kenny snoring gently in his reclined armchair, the baby's face content while sleeping upon Kenny's chest. Clem was strongly reminded of those photos of polar bear moms with their babies sleeping on their backs. Something echoed in her mind.

_When was the last time you slept, Kenny?_

_Oh, about two years ago..._

At that moment, Kenny chose to let out a particularlyloud snore. Luke gently moved the sleeping baby into the safer suitcase-crib they'd made, and put a blanket on the sleeping man. Both Kenny and the baby continued snoozing peacefully. Luke then caught Clem's eye and winked, putting a finger to his lips. Clem beamed back at him, and turned back to the wilderness.

The last of the snow had petered out to the lightest dusting, barely anything coming down.

It was then that Clem realized the skies had all but opened up in front of her; the clouds from the storm mostly gone. Even years after the outbreak, she could never get used to the loss of the light pollution, letting her see _so_ many more stars than she could have ever seen in Atlanta—thousands, maybe millions of them. On top of that hill, she felt so _close_ to the heavens, to those infinite celestial bodies. There was even an epic linear haze running through the entire zenith that looked like an azure–buttery colored smoke spotlit from behind: the Milky Way. The sight was almost unreal, like she was just looking at the scene through the dirty lens of a camera, hoping to capture the raw beauty that she knew she never could. But the stars were alive; she could see them blinking and breathing in the midnight abyss out of the corner of her eye. Their light warmed her, though it seemed like there was a lot more living up there than down here.

But Clementine noticed now the stars were winking out towards the northwest, where a weak gleam from the earth seemed to be washing out those stars. It was in the direction of the town across the river, in the direction of Wellington...

She felt something lift inside her, and a smile came to her lips. She would tell Luke the news soon. But for now...

All she could see was the moonlight joining its sister starlight, healing the pallor of the world by making the formerly achromatic snow _glow _an almost blue. All she could hear was each last flake sounding like nature's most miniscule wind chime, forming an almost imperceptible symphony, coming down to gently accept their fate to forever sleep with the rest of their brethren. All she could feel was the cold, and yet her heart beat and her blood flowed defiantly, refusing to let her be numb. And the smell? All she could smell was biting, crisp and _clean_. There was no hint of death in the air, only a blank slate of freedom. She breathed slow, letting it fill her.

She didn't want to move.

...

...

...

...

...

...

"Clem! I found some _marshmallows!_"

...Well, maybe she _could_ move after all.

End

* * *

A/N - Well I hoped you enjoyed the first fic I've ever written! This was basically my imagining of Luke's and Clem's resolving some of their issues from the last episode, and how they can hopefully become closer. Let me also just clear up that I know Clem never found Nick's watch really; I just thought it would be a sweet scene if she could give it to Luke somehow. Also, that ancient city that got covered by ash was of course the real city of Pompeii, which got buried by the ash of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D. It's creepy stuff if you look it up. x.x Leave a review if you so wish. :)


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